


2AM Nobodies

by gaialux



Category: Oz (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Homeless, Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:46:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9375056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: It’s 2AM. Somehow they’re here.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [michele659](https://archiveofourown.org/users/michele659/gifts).



> Contains self-referencing homophobic language and drug use (LSD).

In the three years Miguel has been on-and-off the streets, he’s avoided letting himself be a fag. But this guy -- Ryan, he says his name is, Irish accent and all -- has some sort of curse or spell or fucking leprechaun down his pants because Miguel is powerless and hard at his touch.  
  
“I don’t know you.” Miguel said in something caught between a whisper and gasp. “Who are you?”  
  
Ryan had caught his lip between his teeth, kissed him sweet, then moved back to say, “You know me. I’m just like you.”  
  
Somehow, in Miguel’s lust-drunk brain, that made perfect sense.  
  
Just like how the spray-painted face on the alley wall -- original Ryan artwork -- is the most exquisite thing Miguel has been graced to see. _Everything_ about this man and what he can do is beauty.  
  
Then again, it could be the LSD talking.  
  
Probably the LSD talking.  
  
They make love -- and it is love. Tender and soft and Miguel can see the waves of pleasure emitting from Ryan’s body ( _purple_. They were purple. Bright, stunning. Miguel can’t look away). Ryan’s hands are everywhere and they warm Miguel despite the frozen asphalt pressing into his ass.  
  
He digs his own hands into Ryan’s hips and earns himself a moan from Ryan’s mouth. It sets Miguel off. That sound. Guttural, animalistic, and oh so real. He comes. Hard. And the full spectrum of rainbow shines in his eyes.  
  
\--  
  
They smoke after. A cool comedown as the world grows solid and dull. Ryan, though, still has purple tinging his edges. Ryan smiles at Miguel Miguel looks away.  
  
“You can look,” Ryan says. He breathes out and the sweetness mingles with the bitter tobacco. “We fucked. I think you’ve earned the right to look.”  
  
Miguel doesn’t, of course, look. The LSD is wearing off. It makes him into a scared kid who ran out into the streets to begin with. He jumps when Ryan’s hand smooths down his ribs.  
  
“Hey,” Ryan says. Miguel works up the courage to look. He’s still smiling. “It’s okay.”  
  
Miguel allows himself to look again. Less reddening of the cheeks this time. Just wide eyes and a deep, deep desire to touch. To feel. To relive everything that just happened over and over again.  
  
Of course it can’t happen. Give it another hour. At 4am everyone slowly comes to their senses. The early, early workers wake up. The bums get moving before they’re mugged. The trash gets emptied. The world spins again.  
  
And Miguel can’t be a fag. Not out here.  
  
But they have that hour. That intoxicating, mind-blowing hour where Miguel can forget who he is. Where he is. _(what he is.)_. He can kiss Ryan. He can smile. He can even fucking _laugh_.  
  
“Will I see you again?”  
  
It runs from his mouth before Miguel can shove it back in.  
  
Ryan smiles that bright, beautiful smile as he lights another cigarette. Post-orgasmic bliss. Miguel could go for one, too.  
  
“Sure,” Ryan says. “Who knows what can happen at 2am?”


End file.
